


Family Resemblance

by linoone



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: Amita is Lakshmana, Lost Princess of Kyrat AU, ubisoft you FOOLS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 13:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linoone/pseuds/linoone
Summary: Amita had been compared to Pagan multiple times since becoming leader and she had always regarded such comments as nothing but baseless insults but hearing of Lakshmana and taking a closer look at the posters of the king's face, she finds there may be more truth to the words





	Family Resemblance

**Author's Note:**

> dead fandom, hot take. but really ubi why wouldn't you do this???

    _If you do this, you’re just like Pagan._

    The words at the time rang empty on Amita’s ears, given that Sabal said something like that almost every other sentence when he was even speaking to her. And such similar jabs had been whispered and shared behind her back and she had made it her mission to ignore them. Her skin had grown thicker and thicker the longer she’d been leader and now they were almost meaningless.

    She had heard all the rumors of what had happened to Lakshmana since she was a child. Her position as a martyr was met with controversy among the Golden Path and royalists, but she had never given it more than a few thoughts. All she knew was that she was very young when she had been killed and Pagan began to hide away in his palace and handed most of the work to his governors. If she had lived, she imagined they would be very close in age, but that wasn’t a concern to her.

    Sitting on the bed, she took in a deep breath as she stared at the pile of rolled up and torn apart propaganda posters. She could catch a peek at Pagan’s face peeking from them, not yet a victim to being ripped apart by a passing soldier. Staring at it for a long time, she eventually moved to pick it up.

    Her hand ran over the ragged piece of paper, scrutinizing the image. Maybe she was like him after all and she wasn’t entirely sure that the similarities were only in their ideas. Not that she would ever say it, but the look in his eyes was something she recognized when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. But that had to be a coincidence. Her aunt and uncle surely would have told her if her parent was the king of Kyrat. But maybe they wouldn’t. Was their beloved Mohan really above stealing the child of his wife and his rival?

    The sound of someone approaching snapped her out of her thoughts. Ajay must be back; no one else elicited so much noise when they arrived. He didn’t knock, though that wasn’t too unusual, but the look in his eyes said he had more than a few things on his mind.

    “Amita, we need to talk. Now.”

    She wilted, barely visible but she knew he had caught a glimpse of it from the way his eyebrow furrowed. “Not now, Ajay, I need to think.”

    “No, this can’t wait. Do you know what happened to Lakshmana and my father?”

    There was a long pause before she shook her head. Maybe before she could have guessed, but now she was more confused than she had ever been.

    “Don’t lie to me. No one here is telling me anything, not even you and Sabal.”

    “I don’t know, Ajay. Lakshmana is supposed to be dead. Mohan was supposed to have killed her.”

    “What do you mean supposed?”

    The woman grew quiet, looking at a loss of words for the first time. Did she really know what had happened? She never knew her parents so they very well could be the king and the former Tarun Matara. Suddenly, the room felt like it was whirling around her even though she was still sitting in the same spot.

    “Amita, what do you mean?” He was by her side faster than she realized, expression both frustrated and concerned.

    “I…” _Spit it out, spit it out._ “...I think I am Lakshmana Min.”

    And of course, of all the times Sabal had to burst in, he chose now. But he didn’t look smug as he usually did, but instead just as surprised as Ajay did by the revelation. Her eyes turned from lost to angry and intense in a matter of second as she stood straight up.

    “Amita--” Sabal started but didn’t get a chance before she was in his face again, shoving him back and away from the door. 

    “No, no, I don’t want to hear anything from you.” A pointed finger was shoved against his sternum before she moved through the door, glancing back at the two of them. “Don’t even think of following me.”

    With that, the door was slammed shut, leaving the two men behind nothing but confused.


End file.
